


Speak Up

by Quarantinevibes



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Caring Logic | Logan Sanders, Caring Morality | Patton Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders-centric, Fainting, Gen, Injured Roman Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders Angst, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Patton is smarter than we give him credit for, Platonic Relationships, Spiders, Virgil is not a prank master, Virgil tries to be a prank master, blood/ descriptions of injury, mention of nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:01:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23636479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quarantinevibes/pseuds/Quarantinevibes
Summary: When Virgil hears that Roman can't have nightmares, he decides to play a prank. It was supposed to be an innocent, stupid joke. One that Virgil could laugh about and tease Roman about for a good couple of weeks. But what happens when Virgil loses control and the situation takes a turn for the worse?Completed!
Comments: 246
Kudos: 345





	1. The Color of Tuesday

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first fic on AO3, hope you enjoy it! The story is basically all planned out, so there will be consistent updates :)

Virgil had not expected to be seething with rage on this particular day, but here he was.

The day had started out normally. He was on the couch, helping Logan edit a video, when he heard an offended gasp from the kitchen. Roman came barreling into the living room with Patton trailing behind him. Roman jabbed a finger at the pair on the couch.

“You two! Quick, settle a debate! If Tuesday were a color, what color would it be? I say green, because it’s the obvious answer, but Padre over here insists, ridiculously might I add, that it’s blue!” Roman huffed in exasperation, as if expecting both of them to jump to his defense.

“What the fuck?” Virgil replied instead.

Logan nodded at that, seemingly still processing the question. He saved the video they had been working on, gently closed it, and pushed his glasses up his nose.

“Tuesday” Logan started as he regained the ability to speak, “is a day of the week, not a color.”

Roman blinked at them for a moment before letting out a groan and slinging himself dramatically onto the couch. He seemed to be saying something, but his voice was muffled by the couch cushion.

“Sorry, I don’t talk couch.” Virgil said, rolling his eyes and motioning for Logan to open the laptop again so they could keep working.

“I _said_ ,” Roman drawled out after removing his face from the furniture, “that I _know_ it’s not an actual color. The question is what color do you _think of_ when you hear the word Tuesday?”

“But it’s not a color,” Logan repeated, mystified.

“I know, Logan,” said Roman.

“It’s a day of the week,”

“That’s not the question, Logan.”

Virgil could practically see the smoke rising out of Logan’s ears. It would have been funny if they weren’t working on something. Virgil sighed and patted Logan’s head as if the motion would stop the gears in his head from overheating. He turned to Roman.

“So I think Logan is out of commission, but if I answer your question will you leave?”

“Yes!” Roman shouted, perking up almost immediately. Patton also let out a squeal and Virgil briefly wondered how this conversation even started. Actually, he didn’t want to know. He obviously didn’t actually have an opinion, but he raised an eyebrow at Patton who was practically bouncing.

“Blue.” Virgil said, earning the expected happy shout from Patton. Roman huffed indignantly.

“You obviously just said that to make Patton happy! Do you even have a real answer?” he asked, hands on his hips and cheeks puffed out. That sight, along with Logan’s blank stare, made Virgil snort.

“Of course not Princey, why do you even have such a strong opinion on this?” he asked.

At Virgil’s laughter, Roman dropped his pout and turned his nose up in mock hurt. “I didn’t, until I started arguing about it and now I shall defend green Tuesday until the day I die.”

Virgil chuckled, “You’re a fucking nightmare.” 

“Jokes on you, I don’t have those,” he replied.

Now it was his turn for his mind to stutter to a halt. Virgil tilted his head to the side in question. “You don’t have what? Nightmares?”

Logan, whose eyes finally started to clear up in light of an actual coherent question, popped in. “That’s right. Roman represents Thomas’s hopes and dreams. While you or I may not be able to control what we see when we sleep, when Roman is in his room, he dreams mainly about Thomas’s wildest, well, dreams. His dreams can then manifest physically as Thomas’s creativity.”

“Guess you could say he’s pretty _dreamy_!” Patton chimed in and put his hands on his hips like he was imitating a sitcom.

“So you’ve never dreamt about your teeth falling out?” Virgil asked, his eyes suddenly trained on the Prince.

“Nope.”

“Falling off a cliff?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Suddenly naked during a performance?”

“Is that a nightmare?”

Virgil let a groan, “That is _sooo_ unfair.” From what Logan said, it seemed like the other sides had nightmares, and it was probably a good thing that Roman didn’t have to go through that, but Virgil was feeling petty so he pushed that generous thought to the side.

“Well, I guess there can’t be any nightmares for this dream come true.” Roman said triumphantly and pointed a finger towards himself. Seemingly satisfied with his disruption, he turned back towards the kitchen where he and Patton continued to do…whatever it was they were doing. Logan opened the laptop to finish the edits, but Virgil was too distracted with his newly obtained information and Logan was too tired from his previous mental strain so they both decided to call it a day.

And now Virgil was sitting in his bed. Seething. No wonder the Prince always seemed to be filled with boundless energy, he didn’t have any nightmares to keep him from waking up in the middle of the night. He’s never lied in bed, terrified of what his own mind could do and willing to risk a night of sleep. Virgil had nightmares, heck he was the (unintentional) reason behind a lot of Thomas’s nightmares. Fears about failing tests, rejection, messing up an audition, hell Virgil was pretty much a nightmare _factory._

Suddenly, Virgil perked up.

He was nightmare factory. He was a nightmare _factory._ He could _make_ nightmares. Which meant, Virgil wove his hands together sinisterly, that he didn’t have to bask in his petty envy for long.

Virgil waited until 3 am (he was up anyways because, you know, nightmares) to put his plan into place. He shuffled quietly out of his room and padded across the hallway to the obnoxiously golden and intricately decorated door that led to ~~his target’s~~ Roman’s room. The door was unlocked, obviously the fool didn’t know the difference between bravery and caution, and Virgil slipped inside, quiet as a shadow.

Virgil almost gave himself away when he saw Roman’s sleeping position. He was fully on his back, his hands clasped on top of his chest as if he were imitating Snow White in her glass casket. It was ridiculous and Virgil had to put a hand over his mouth to keep himself from laughing. Although, he had to admit that the Prince looked rather peaceful. So peaceful that he almost wanted to abandon his prank. Almost.

Virgil tip-toed to the side of the bed and tapped his hands together rhythmically as he thought about his sinister prank. He was going to give Roman a taste of what it was like to be in the real world where dreaming sometimes kind of sucked. Of course, he wasn’t going to go overboard, he wasn’t evil after all, but a tiny nightmare should take the Prince down a couple notches.

Virgil tugged at the cuffs of his hoodie as he thought about what nightmare he would give Roman. It had to be something that he could poke fun at in the morning, he couldn’t wait to see Roman’s face when he realized he’d been messed with. Should he go with the classic naked in school story line after all? No, Roman’s stupid confidence may actually be high enough to not interpret that as scary. Maybe he saves a prince and when he goes in for a kiss, he realizes that it’s actually a squid? No, that’s too lame. _Dammit Virgil, think_. 

Virgil jumped, Roman had started muttering something in his sleep, but Virgil couldn’t make out what it was. Virgil counted to 20 to make sure he was still sleeping before threading his hands together again and cackling silently. He touch his index fingers to Roman’s temples.

He had the perfect idea.


	2. Cat got your tongue?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman begins his dream-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting the second chapter so there isn't too much of a cliff hanger from the get-go. Descriptions of choking/ not being able to speak.

Roman laughed merrily as he stared at the scene in front of him. He had made it back to the kingdom after valiantly capturing the bandits had been plaguing the nearby villages. In front of him, the golden walls of the castle entrance rose elegantly into the air and the drawbridge lowered itself to allow him, his horses, and his prisoners inside.

As he made his triumphant march to the Monarch’s quarters, he paraded past the villagers who chanted his name and threw petals and coins in his direction. Roman nodded humbly and waved his hands at them. A family of turtle doves swam above him and dropped a ringlet of flowers around his head. One villager with the head of a cat, the body of a teddy bear, and a green beanie, was sobbing and held up a poster that read “I LOVE PRINCE ROMAN” in stark blue sharpie.

Ah yes. It was good to be him.

Roman made his way into the throne room, the villagers still flanking his left and right sides. With a grunt, he threw the bandits over his shoulder and they landed impressively in front of the stairs leading up to the Monarch's throne. The Monarch was a willowy elven creature with long, light blue hair flecked with small stars and planets. They had golden eyes, one with a rectangular pupil and the other with a diamond. Their head had long antlers crisscrossed with vines and butterflies and their crown was a simple silver chain with a circular pendant that hung in front of their forehead. The Monarch stood and the meters of silver and dark blue robes they wore rippled like river water. They looked down at the bandits that Roman had brought in and smiled.

“Creatures of the Dreamland realm! Look and see, your Prince has once again succeeded in doing what none could do before him!” The Monarch spread their arms and the villagers cheered loudly, the cat-bear shrieking with excitement.

“These bandits,” the Monarch began and started to slowly descend the staircase, “have been plaguing this kingdom for eons, stealing our food, kidnapping our brightest students, and replacing all our jelly beans with those gross flavors like vomit or dog-poop!”

The villagers jeered, one of them even gagged.

“And your Prince was able to defeat them, release their prisoners, and replace all the jelly-bean flavors in just one night!”

The applause was thunderous, literally as a few thunderbirds had joined the crowd and their cheering boomed over the room.

“And now,” the Monarch waved a hand over the crowd and it was immediately silent, “would our dear Prince Roman please regale us with how he managed this herculean feat?”

Ah, this was the part Roman had been waiting for. The part where he would spend hours describing how he had invaded the enemy’s hideout, defeated the boss’s henchman while fitting in a musical number or two, and freed the hostages all without breaking a princely sweat. Roman opened his mouth to begin his tale and-

And nothing.

Well, not nothing. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a garbled _noise_. He cleared his throat and tried again, but again his words fell uselessly off his tongue and turned into nothing but _noise_.

The Monarch blinked in surprise as Roman tried again and again to speak. “Whatever is the matter, my Prince?” they asked.

But Roman couldn’t tell them, every attempt to make out a noise even close to comprehensible only ended in more garble. The villagers started to get uneasy and Roman felt his face start to burn with embarrassment. This had never happened to him before, he always had complete control in Dreamland.

“Cat got your tongue?” one of the bandits laughed. Roman glared at him, wanting to remind him how easy it was for Roman to throw him to the farthest corners of the castle, but suddenly he heard a shriek from behind him. Roman turned around.

Now it was his turn to gag.

The cat-bear villager had dropped their poster and in their hands was a real, honest to goodness, human tongue. It flopped weakly in its arms and dripped with bright red liquid. Red liquid. Red- _blood?_ Dazed, Roman watched as the cat-bear’s expression turned from one of horror to one of hunger and-

Roman turned away. He got off his horse and steadied himself against its flank, willing himself not to give up his stomach contents. The Monarch looked down at him, an unreadable expression in their eyes. They raised their hands and summoned a figure in a hooded cloak with a long horn in the middle of the hood. The figure approached Roman closer and closer until they finally took off their hood.

_Logan._

Roman’s knees nearly buckled in relief. The other sides didn’t usually play a part in his dreamland escapades, but he was certainly grateful that tonight was the exception. He tried to express his emotions, but only a gurgle came out.

Logan put his hand to his chin and studied the Prince. He then nodded solemnly and looked back at the Monarch.

“Well? What say you royal mage?” asked the Monarch. _Royal mage? What- did that mean this was a Dreamland Logan? But no, I’ve always been able to control Dreamland. Does that mean this isn’t Dreamland?_

Roman’s thoughts were spiraling so much that he barely caught what Logan told the Monarch.

“It’s a curse, your majesty.” Logan stated and closed his eyes at the loud gasp that rang out in the chambers.

“A curse,” the Monarch repeated, “a CURSE,” they roared and suddenly the butterflies in their antlers sealed themselves back into their cocoons and the vines on their antlers shrunk and withered, “you _dare_ bring a curse into these scared halls?” they screeched and pointed a finger at Roman, whose flower crown had wilted as well, “Get him out of here mage. Do NOT bring him back until his curse has been lifted.”

If Roman could have, he would have scoffed in offense. He didn’t know how he got cursed, but he did know that it certainly wasn’t his fault, way to victim blame. And after all he’s done for the Dreamland kingdom. He turned back, expecting to see the villagers to rise up against this blatant abuse, but they had all backed away from the prince wearing subdued expressions. Logan grabbed his sleeve and began to tug, but Roman snatched his arm away.

“You must come,” said Mage-Logan.

Roman shook his head vehemently.

“You are cursed.”

Roman shook his head again. Geez, even if he was cursed was it really that bad. It’s not like anyone had died.

“You can only stay if you prove you are not cursed. Say you are not cursed, and you may stay.”

Roman gritted his teeth in annoyance. He longed for the real Logan who would probably just tell him how to undo the curse. Granted, he may take half an hour to do so, but still. Roman opened his mouth to attempt saying something, fully expecting the words to come out mangled again.

But that didn’t happen.

Instead, he opened his mouth and a sticky black liquid fell onto the floor. It dripped and dripped until there was a sizable puddle at Roman’s feet. He looked around for the source of the liquid until he felt something lodge at the back of his throat. His eyes widened in horror and he hacked out a glob of slime. Roman choked, more and more of it was falling out of his mouth, drowning him. Clawing its way out of his throat and scraping along the rough of his mouth. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t move, he sunk to his knees and wheezed as the gunk finally slowed to a stop. Mage-Logan watched with a calculating look.

“It’s getting stronger,” he said, voice devoid of any emotion. He took Roman’s sleeve.

And this time, Roman had no strength to stop him.


	3. Crease Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil is not a prank master-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone on this site??? Is so??? Nice???
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos! They make me really happy and definitely motivated me to post the next chapter ;) (Also, Virgil was getting bashed in the comments and I kinda felt bad lol). Hope you enjoy!

Virgil nodded in satisfaction.

The Prince had turned bright red, meaning that Virgil’s prank had worked. It was rather ingenious, if Virgil did say so himself. The Prince prided himself on his articulation, relying on it whenever he performed and emphasizing it in their videos. If Roman tried to speak, and instead all that came out was nonsense, he would be beside himself with embarrassment.

Virgil watched the Prince wriggle. Of course, he couldn’t see exactly what the Prince was dreaming about, but judging from the blush, he was sure it was sufficiently embarrassing. Virgil sighed, satisfied. He would poke fun at him tomorrow. Maybe he would speak nonsense to him just to freak him out for a minute or two. Virgil removed his hands from Roman’s temples and began to go back to his room. Maybe he would have a good dream tonight. One where he was a grandmaster of pranking and Roman was his faithful, but blessedly bumbling, sidekick.

Suddenly, Virgil turned back, eager to snap a pick of the sleeping Prince. He could add Roman’s ridiculous Snow White sleeping position to his list of blackmail. Virgil dug out his phone and held it up.

He stopped.

Roman had not returned to his laughable sleeping position. In fact, his face was creased with even more lines than when Virgil was next to him. Roman’s head tossed from side to side and his breathing was coming up shallower and shallower. Virgil rushed back to his side, what the heck was going on? Virgil had taken his hands off, broken off the connection of his anxiety. So why did it still look like Roman was in the throes of a nightmare? The expression he was making was nothing like the embarrassing blush that he had when Virgil had been in control of his dream. This expression looked so…so…

_Scared._

“Dammit Princey, this better not just be you being dramatic,” Virgil muttered and shook Roman’s shoulder. Sure, he’d probably get an earful of “What are you doing in my room?!” and “You thought to sneak up on _me?_ I am the _prince_ how dare you!” Virgil squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself to hear Roman’s whining.

But there was nothing. Virgil popped open an eye and looked down. Roman was still asleep, though he still had those worrisome creases near his eyes and he was groaning.

“Heavy sleeper, huh? I should have known this wouldn’t be easy.” Virgil sighed and put his phone right next to Roman’s ear before letting his alarm blast.

Roman's eyes stayed closed.

“What the,” Virgil shook Roman again, more violently, “Princey, come on wake up,” he shifted Roman into sitting position, but still got no response, “you’re seriously freaking me out here, man. This better not be a prank. I mean, I know I was just pranking you so haha you win so just,” Virgil opened Roman’s eyes, but they instantly snapped shut when he let go.

Virgil’s breathing hitched, “Fuck- _fuck,_ wake up! Roman, WAKE _UP.”_

But Roman stayed asleep.


	4. Cut it out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman tries to take stock-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! On an unrelated note, online classes really ain't it you guys. Class feels super optional when it 100% is not at all optional. 
> 
> On a more related note, hope you're enjoying the story so far, here's the next chapter!   
> Notes: spiders, nightmare descriptions

Roman stared wearily at Mage-Logan.

He had let himself be dragged to a cave on the outskirts of the castle where his hands were bound up in thick vines that reached up to the walls. He was suspended on top of a deep, but small, pool of water. Around him, crystals grew out of the sides of the stone walls and they glowed a brilliant blue, casting an eerie glow on everything.

Roman had tried shouting and wringing himself out of the grip of the Mage on their way to the cave, but every time would end in a coughing fit with more of that horrible goo lodging its way into his lungs. He had quickly learned to keep his mouth shut, but that didn’t stop him from glaring at the Mage in front of him.

Mage-Logan stared back, inspecting Roman with a cold stare that made him shudder. Mage-Logan then reeled back with a sigh.

 _What? What could it possibly be now?_ Roman wanted to ask, but settled for an annoyed eyebrow raise.

“It’s getting stronger,” Mage-Logan said simply, “I’ll need some help.” Mage-Logan turned robotically and exited the cave.

 _Finally_ Roman thought with an eye roll and turned to glance at his restraints. Time for this Prince to make his daring escape! Roman looked at the vines binding his hands and feet and the dark, inky black lines that looked like veins which ran along his skin.

Wait.

Roman stared closer at the black lines and realized with a start that those _were_ his veins. The blackness that now crisscrossed his forearms looked frighteningly familiar. Could it be that the _stuff_ that had been falling out of his mouth had somehow seeped into his-his-

Roman willed the bile back down his throat.

He tugged his hand and saw that any small movement only helped the blackness’s spread. And, after his initial horror had seeped away, he noticed that it actually _hurt_. Whenever the blackness ripped further along, he felt his skin tighten and scrape from the inside.

This, Roman concluded, was not a dream. It couldn’t be. And it couldn’t be a nightmare because he didn’t have those. Which left the only possible conclusion: this was real.

Briefly, Roman thought about how real Logan, or his Logan, would have been proud of him for coming up with that conclusion. However, it only served to stoke his panic. How could this be real? Had he somehow made it to some part of the imagination that he couldn’t control?

Roman winced. In his frustration, he had tried to put his hands to his head and the movement helped to spread the damn curse. He tried to see if moving his legs fared any better, but it still stung and made his head spin. The crystals on the wall had abruptly changed from blue to purple and Roman watched as Mage-Logan entered with another hooded figure. The figure took off his hood and quirked his eyebrow up at Roman.

Roman knew that eyebrow quirk. He would give anything to see it on his actual friend and not this-this replica of-

“High Witch Virgil, what do you think?” Mage-Logan asked, and gestured towards Roman. Witch Virgil was wearing a robe similar to the other, except his was deep purple and had two short, wooden antlers growing from either side of the hood. Witch-Virgil hummed, picking up his silver staff and floating over to Roman. His expression, like Mage-Logan’s, was cold.

“We’ll need to cut it out.”

Roman squeaked. He couldn’t help it. Black slime dripped down his chin and he pulled away from the witch, wincing as he felt the push of the curse. Logan sighed, as if he were expecting this, and pulled out a long, sharp knife.

Roman pulled away desperately. If these damn veins hurt this much, he didn’t want to think about how much an honest-to-goodness _knife_ would hurt.

“Now, now,” cooed Witch-Virgil, holding Roman steady, “if you move too much we won’t be able to catch them.”

 _Catch them? What-_ Roman looked down at his arms and came very close to losing his dinner for the umpteenth time.

The black vines had morphed and split and had taken the form of large, black _spiders_. They crawled frantically under his skin, over his arms and chest and legs. And shit, holy _shit_ it _hurt._ Roman held in a shriek which came out like a whimper. Witch-Virgil shushed him and nodded at Mage-Logan.

He raised his knife and aimed.


	5. Creative Liberty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil tries to figure things out-
> 
> Notes: mentions of blood

Virgil was pacing the room frantically.

Roman was only getting worse. His eyes were screwed shut and his head was jammed up against his pillow. Virgil had tried everything he could think of to get him to wake up: cold water, loud sounds, even shutting his nose for a moment before Virgil freaked and gave that option up.

He knew he should call the other sides, but this was his mess. He didn’t want to wake Logan and Patton up for something he did. But Virgil’s resolution was slowly crumbling as Roman’s groans turned to whimpers.

“Maybe I should-” Virgil started, but he was suddenly interrupted by a ghastly _noise_. At first, Virgil thought his alarm had gone off, but his phone was dark. He looked around for the source of it, and his face quickly paled.

Roman was screaming, no, _wailing._ The sound wrenched itself out of him and filled his room. His hands shot out and tried to grab at something, and his white pajamas were drenched in sweat and, and something dark. Virgil ran over to hold down the flailing prince to keep him from hurting himself. His eyes panned down to the dark substance that was pooling at his sides and arms. Virgil touched it carefully and noted that it wasn’t actually black, it was more of a reddish brown. Wait, was that blo-

“LOGAN,” Virgil screeched and scrambled back, no longer caring about waking up the other sides, “LOGAN, holy fuck holy shit LOGAN, PATTON!”

Virgil shook, why the hell was Roman bleeding? Virgil continued screaming for the other two when he felt a strong hand on his shoulder. Virgil ignored it and continued screaming until he realized who the hand belonged to.

“Virgil?” Logan asked, his glasses were slightly askew and his dark blue t-shirt crumpled at the waist. His eyes were full of a sleepy haze that indicated that he had been in a deep sleep. Patton also appeared, looking sleepy as well, but surprisingly a bit more put together. Distantly, Virgil wondered whether Patton was used to be being woken up at strange hours of the night.

“Ro-Roman is, Roman, he can’t, won’t,” Virgil stuttered out and squeezed his eyes shut. Dammit, he needed to keep it together. Virgil forced himself to take a deep breath and with Virgil suddenly silent, the other two sides instantly noticed the screaming prince.

“Roman?” Patton squeaked and rushed to hold his hand. The Prince had not registered the touch and was still screaming, his throat going raw. He’d pause for a few moments, but then a new puddle of darkness would bloom somewhere else on him and he’d start again.

“Oh goodness,” Logan said, pushing his glasses up and immediately looking much more alert, “did he go into the imagination again?” Virgil shook his head.

“No it, he didn’t, I didn’t mean for,” Virgil took in another deep breath, “Itwassupposedtobeaprank.”

Both Logan and Patton blinked at him. “A prank?” Patton asked as he started to conjure bandages and cleaning supplies. Virgil nodded.

“I wanted to give him a nightmare,” Patton gasped, but Virgil kept going, “Not a big one! Just a tiny, embarrassing one. But when I pulled away from him, the nightmare kept going. I didn’t have control anymore and now he won’t wake up and I don’t know what’s going on and-”

Virgil was cut off by Logan’s hand at his shoulder again. He focused on it and then nodded at Roman, “And now he’s suddenly bleeding, what’s going on?” he repeated, more to himself than to anyone else.

Logan had taken a seat at the head of Roman’s bed, patting his head though that did little to comfort him. Roman had stopped screaming and was instead shaking uncontrollably, silent tears slipping from the corners of his eyes.

Which was way, way worse somehow.

“I think,” Logan started and then swallowed, “I think maybe you giving the seed of a nightmare may have been a catalyst. Roman’s never had a nightmare before, so when you gave him the, idea I suppose you can call it, his mind took creative liberty.”

“And what about the cuts?” Virgil asked, feeling himself slip down onto his haunches next to Roman’s bed. Logan’s brows furrowed and surprisingly, it was Patton who answered.

“Well kiddo, Roman is the manifestation of creativity. Now usually, his dreams physically manifest in Thomas as inspiration. So maybe his nightmares physically manifest as-” Patton nodded down to the deep gashes that were crisscrossing Roman. He tried to clean one of the wounds, but winced when Roman pulled away, his back arching and his throat letting out a guttural sound.

Virgil felt a knot of guilt and panic settle in the back of his throat and stomach. He tried to swallow past it. Feeling guilty or anxious or really everything he usually does would not help right now. “We need to wake him up,” he said, flinching when Roman let out another scream that sounded more like a sob. Virgil ran them through the list of techniques he used to try and get Roman to wake up and looked expectantly at them for a better solution.

“So basically, trying to get him up from the outside isn’t working.” Patton surmised and Virgil shrugged. Virgil was now holding Roman’s other hand and drawing circles in it with his thumb. Suddenly, Logan’s eyes lit up and then, just as quickly, he squeezed them shut.

“What is it Logan?” Patton asked gently, putting his free hand on his shoulder.

“It- I have an idea.”

“Great!” Virgil exclaimed and then saw Logan’s expression, “Oh, not great?”

Logan shook his head, “Patton’s right. We have to get him to wake up, but we can’t do it externally it seems. Which means we have to get him to wake himself up.”

Virgil bounced his legs, waiting for Logan to get to the point. Logan nodded at Virgil.

“How do you usually wake up from a nightmare?” Logan asked. Virgil stuttered, trying to keep his impatience in check.

“I don’t know Logan, usually I just freak out and wake up.”

“In other words, your anxiety wakes you up.”

“I mean yeah, I guess but,” Virgil’s eyes suddenly widened, “you’re not actually thinking of taking him to my _room_. Are you crazy?!”

“Well, do you have a better idea?!” Logan snapped and then winced when Virgil flinched, “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap, that was counterproductive, I’m just worried. Truly, though, if you have a better idea, I would love to have an alternative. I would like to end this nightmare, both figuratively and literally.”

Virgil wracked his brains and his shoulders slumped. He shook his head.

“No. I don’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it's revealed that Roman is still in a nightmare! But will Virgil and the others be able to pull him out?
> 
> Thanks again to all of you for reading! I'm not sure if it's this site or just this fandom in general, but you're all so kind and wholesome ;-; Your comments and kudos make my day, hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	6. All Fall Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman can't take much more-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! My alternate title for this would have been 'The Fall of Rome-an' (would that have been too punny?)
> 
> Anyways, I know I keep saying it, but thank you thank you for all your support! Seriously, if kindness could kill I'd be dead ten times over. Your comments and kudos inspire me to keep writing and it means the world :') Hope you enjoy this next chapter!
> 
> Notes: Spiders, mentions of wounds

Roman was exhausted.

Mage-Logan had been mercilessly stabbing at the spiders that crawled under his skin, but they would just claw their way back into another opening. At first, it had been a firestorm of pain, Roman had screamed and didn’t even notice the black gunk gushing out of his mouth. All he knew was _fire, tight, bursting, pain, hurt, hurts, hurts._

And then, Roman had become tired of screaming. His voice, well whatever it was now that he couldn’t speak, was hoarse. He watched in a daze as the spiders pushed themselves into the cuts and Mage-Logan and Witch-Virgil tried to gouge them out. He wanted to pass out, he desperately wanted to sleep, but for some reason he wasn’t able. He thought that it couldn’t get much worse, and honestly he was pretty numb anyways.

But he was wrong. Of course he was wrong because suddenly, the spiders started talking.

They were whispering, hundreds of voices overlapping in his ears. A cacophony of chitters.

_You’ll never be good enough, Roman._

_What kind of Prince gets himself cursed?_

_Are you sure anyone needs you at all?_

They kept going, layering on insecurity after insecurity until Roman almost wished for the fire back.

_Pathetic._

_Weak._

_A captured prince._

_Useless._

Roman felt wetness on his cheeks, noting that it wasn’t the black slime but something saltier. He wanted to tell them to shut up, but opening his mouth led to another litany of hellish occurrences. Roman closed his eyes, but immediately opened them again with a garbled shriek when he felt a spider crawl under his eyelid.

The black veins were back and they were closing around his chest. His heart was hammering, beating against his rib cage like a wild animal. Distantly, he heard the vines that were holding him begin to creak. He tried to suck in a breath, but opening his mouth was number one on his list of do-not-dos.

His head felt like it was going to explode. Maybe it would, he thought dryly, anything awful seemed possible here. The veins creaked more, the sound getting louder and louder until it was all Roman could hear and then-

_CRACK_

His left arm suddenly swung to his side, free of the restraint. He would have been elated, but all too soon the vines holding his right leg gave way too. He stared at the abyss of dark water below him and looked up to Mage-Logan and Witch-Virgil for help.

They were gone.

Where had they gone? Roman didn’t truly realize how comforting he found the familiar faces and he whipped his head around wildly, searching for them. The cave crystals had begun to glow a bright red. Roman thrashed, the spiders still talking, shouting now. Calling him pathetic and weak and useless, useless, useless.

The last vine cracked and Roman fell.


	7. Slump

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman wakes up-
> 
> Notes: hyperventilating, fainting, description of panic attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter length consistency? Don't know her.
> 
> Hey everyone! I keep thinking that I'm going to run out of things to say here, but seeing your comments/ kudos on every chapter give me this stupid grin that I can't seem to wipe off my face. Thank you so much for all your support, I hope you like this chapter as much as I liked writing it ;)

Virgil jumped a full four feet back when Roman suddenly shot up in his bed.

With some measure of relief, Virgil noted that Roman’s eyes were fully opened and they were darting around the room, passing from his face to Logan’s.

The relief quickly evaporated when Virgil also noticed that Roman couldn’t breathe.

“ _Shit_ ,” Logan said quietly, a feat that would have earned an eyebrow raise from Virgil had the circumstances not been so dire. Logan approached Roman, supposedly to talk him down from what seemed to be major hyperventilation, but Roman flinched back. Hard. He nearly toppled off of Virgil’s bed.

Logan pulled back as if stung, confusion and hurt swimming in his eyes. He shook his head and, from the foot of the bed, said, “Roman, you need to breathe. Try and take a breath.”

But if Roman heard him, he made no indication. Instead, he scrambled back to the corner of Virgil’s bed, knocking down pillows and bunching up Virgil’s comforter. His chest was expanding and contracting, but no air was being drawn in and Roman’s eyes were growing wider with each attempt to suck in a breath.

Patton rushed to the bedside and put a hand on Roman’s shoulders. For a moment, Roman looked at Patton, his expression turning from bewildered to slightly hopeful.

“Can you hear me, kiddo?” Patton asked, voice somehow steady. Roman nodded, the action so small that Virgil nearly missed it. Patton’s face brightened, “That’s great. I need you to try and breathe with me, ok? Let’s breathe in for five seconds through the nose.”

Patton breathed in and Roman tried to imitate him, making it to two seconds.

“You’re doing awesome, now let’s hold for seven.”

Roman tried to hold in his breath, shaking with the effort.

“Now out for eight through our mouth.” Patton finished, his shoulders sagging with relief. The color had somewhat returned to Roman’s face. Roman opened his mouth to complete the exercise, but then he suddenly clamped a hand across his mouth, his eyes widening in renewed distress. Roman was rapidly shaking his head back and forth, his breaths now coming out faster than before.

“What happened?!” Logan screeched and ran to the bedside. Roman didn’t seem to process his presence, he was clutching at his chest and his face was turning bright red.

“I-I don’t know! He seemed to be doing ok!”

Roman was swaying heavily now, his eyes half-lidded and glassy.

“Shit, guys I think he’s going to-,” Virgil started, but didn’t finish. He watched in horror as Roman slumped onto Patton.

The three of them stared in stunned silence. Virgil was convinced that he probably would have stayed frozen to the spot for the rest of eternity had Patton not quietly gotten up and gathered Roman in his arms. On any other day, Virgil would have asked how the ever loving heck it was possible for Patton to lift Roman as easily as he did, but currently he was just grateful because he could barely take a step forward himself.

“Let’s get him to the living room.” Patton said, his voice stern but gentle. Virgil and Logan nodded and they sunk into the common room. Patton laid Roman on the couch and Virgil watched his chest rise and fall. His face was no longer twisted in terror and the lines had almost disappeared from his forehead. He watched Roman and, after confirming that he was no longer in immediate danger, let the steel rod of guilt fully ram into him.

Virgil sunk into the chair opposite Roman’s and threw his head in his hands. He had never expected things to go this wrong. Judging from his reaction, Roman probably had never had a panic attack before. And did this mean that Roman would be able to have nightmares from now on? Would Roman even be able to sleep properly again? Would he be able to dream? If Roman couldn’t sleep then he couldn’t dream. If Roman couldn’t dream then he wouldn’t be well rested and come up with new ideas. If he couldn’t come up with new ideas then Thomas would lose his creativity and his livelihood and income and they’d be thrown on the streets and maybe run over by an unsuspecting trucker and oh god they were going to die because of hi-

Virgil was pulled from his spiral of panic by Patton’s hand on his knee. Virgil opened his eyes, he didn’t remember closing them, and looked down at Patton.

“Can you watch over Roman, Lo?” Patton asked. Logan blinked at Patton and reached over to Roman’s head, flinched, and dropped his hand. He nodded and instead took up a kneeling position next to him. Patton smiled.

“Let’s get you some water, kiddo.” Patton said. Virgil wanted to argue that he didn’t think he could keep anything down, but Patton had used his no-nonsense voice that Virgil couldn’t fight. He got up and followed Patton to the kitchen. Virgil slunk down at the table.

“This is all my fault.” Virgil said. Patton set down a tall glass of water and sat down across from him.

“Yeah, it is.” Patton said, nodding solemnly. Virgil flinched back at that, but couldn’t deny it.

“I hurt him.”

“You did.”

“I’m awful.”

“You’re not,” Patton said sternly. Virgil looked up at him, “You made a mistake, Virge. You’re allowed to make mistakes. What matters now is where you go from here.”

“But he’s-” Virgil’s voice cracked and he swallowed thickly, “he’s going to hate me. It’s going to go back to how it was before, maybe worse. Probably worse. Definitely worse.” Virgil ran a hand through his hair. How could that even be what he was concerned about, he was so _selfish_.

“Virgil,” Patton said, inching the glass of water towards him and encouraging him to take a sip, “Roman won’t hate you. He’ll probably be upset, maybe even for a while, but he loves pranks as much as all of us. Once he understands that you’re intentions weren’t harmful, he’ll come around."

“Do you really think so?” Virgil asked, knowing that Patton couldn’t possibly know that, but wanting to hear it anyways.

“I do.”

Virgil shot him a small smile and took a sip of water. They both jumped, though, when they heard a loud groan from the living room.


	8. Not so Itty Bitty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman wakes up (again)-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! Ooh, I really enjoyed reading all your comments for the last chapter :D Roman's finally awake (again), how is he going to react??
> 
> As always, thank you thank you for all your support! Your comments and kudos make my heart so full 🥺, hope you enjoy the chapter!
> 
> Notes: mentions of panic attack

“He’s up!” yelled Logan and both Virgil and Patton bolted back to Roman’s side.

Roman was sitting up and blinking groggily. The cuts and gashes that decorated him had mercifully begun to disappear, much like they did when he came back from the Imagination and decided that his adventure was over for the day. But oh boy, he still did _not_ look good. His pajamas looked like they were a seven-year-old’s arts and crafts project. His hair was sticking up in all directions and he had bags that put Virgil’s make up to shame.

Roman looked up and, upon seeing Virgil and Logan, scooted back a bit, melding himself with the couch cushion. He opened his mouth, stopped, and instead titled his head, eyes wide and full of question. Patton nudged Virgil’s side and Virgil took a deep breath in.

“You had a nightmare, Roman.”

The angle of Roman’s head tilt became more severe.

Virgil groaned, “I-uh- I know you can’t have those. I mean, you did, but that’s not what happened or what usually happens or,” Virgil was highly aware that he was rambling again. God, that was getting annoying, how did the others stand it?

“I tried to pull a prank on you,” he said and when Roman’s eyes didn’t clear of their confusion, Virgil elaborated, “I wanted to give you a nightmare, like an itty-bitty one, but I lost control of it and it became a not so. Itty bitty. One,” Virgil finished lamely.

Roman blinked several times, his brows bunched together in confusion. He looked like he wanted to say something, and Virgil suddenly remembered what the nightmare was supposed to be.

“You can speak, Roman. Nothing will happen.”

Virgil winced at the sheer relief that flooded Roman’s face. What kind of nightmare could be so frightening that THE Prince didn’t want to speak?

Roman took a few breaths, seemingly trying to steel himself. Virgil was astonished that he could even attempt to speak based on his reaction. He often forgot that Roman being an embodiment of bravery made him, well, brave.

Finally, in a very small voice, Roman spoke.

“A prank?” he asked.

Yikes. If Roman didn’t _look_ good, his voice was ten times worse. It was ragged with exhaustion and creaked out of his throat. Virgil didn’t trust himself to reply, he only nodded. Logan began to explain what had happened- the gashes, why his pajamas were all ripped up, and the panic attack, everything. Patton set another large glass of water next to Roman and conjured a fluffy blanket for him. After they finished, Roman didn’t move for a beat, but then he abruptly cast his eyes down. His entire body started to shake.

Virgil blinked in surprise; Roman had suddenly huddled in on himself and was trembling uncontrollably. Was he having another panic attack? Virgil didn’t think he could handle the implications of that, but then he heard a noise- a gasp- and oh.

Virgil had seen Roman cry before, of course. He was the second most prone to cry after Patton. After a Disney movie, he sometimes let out big, dramatic sobs (it’s just so _beautiful)_ , if he didn’t get a role for Thomas, he’d talk to Patton, they’d both let out a few cathartic wails, and Virgil had even seen him wipe a few tears of frustration away when he was working on a script.

This was different, it was nothing Virgil had seen before and it was much, _much_ worse. Roman barely made a sound. If they weren’t looking right at him, they wouldn’t even be able to tell that he was crying save for the intermittent gasps of air. His hands were on his face and he was letting out shudder after heart-breaking shudder.

Patton was rubbing circles into his shoulder and muttering comfort. Logan had also tried to reach for him, but was met with another flinch. He let his hands drop into his lap.

Virgil glanced at the time: 7:13 AM. It had only been a few hours since this whole ordeal began, but it felt like it had been weeks. When Roman’s sobs dissolved into sparse sniffles, Virgil spoke up.

“I’m so sorry, Ro.”

Roman didn’t seem to hear him. Patton quietly asked if he wanted to go back to sleep and Roman’s eyes widened before he gave a half-hearted shrug. Virgil felt another shard of guilt hit his heart.

“Are you scared to sleep?” Virgil asked.

Roman finally looked up, his eyes never meeting Virgil’s, but his expression giving him an answer anyways. Patton promised that he would stay in the living room and Logan, his voice thick and heavy, told him that it was highly unlikely that he would have another nightmare. Virgil wanted to ask how Logan knew this, but Logan seemed to be distracting himself by rattling off facts about Roman’s sleep patterns and Virgil didn’t want to interrupt him.

Roman finally nodded and agreed to go back to sleep. He wedged himself close to the couch cushions and turned his side away from them, clutching at his blanket as he did so. It was a stark contrast to his original carefree and ridiculously Disney sleeping position and Virgil felt his throat constrict when he thought that he may never see it again.

Virgil lifted his hand and swiped at his face. He could be upset later. For now, he would watch Roman and make sure he was safe.


	9. Mental Inventory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman wakes up (again again)
> 
> Notes: Mention of panic attack

Roman’s eyelids fluttered awake at 1:36 pm and he immediately took mental inventory.

  1. He was in the living room.
  2. Everything around him felt undeniably _real,_ solid and grounding in the way that dreams could only poorly imitate.
  3. No spiders.
  4. The _Moana_ blanket he was wrapped in was in excellent taste. He might have to borrow it later.
  5. No vines.
  6. His pajamas were in a state that not even Fairy Godmother could fix.
  7. No pain.
  8. Virgil had been watching him take inventory and had not blinked the entire time.



Roman rubbed his face and tried to process what had happened. He had a nightmare, one that was started by Virgil but quickly spiraled into something far more haunting. Roman was fairly sure that he would inherit Patton’s fear of spiders, or at the very least would flinch the next time he saw one.

Virgil had begun to rock back and forth and was gnawing at his fingertips in typical fashion for when he was stressed. Roman glanced at the clock that blinked out “2:14” in bright LED and realized with a start that he hadn’t moved in over half an hour, which was probably the cause for Virgil’s current state.

Roman wanted to be furious with him, the nightmare had been terrifying, and what he came to realize was a _panic attack_ was easily one of the worst things he had ever experienced. But, when he looked at the embodiment of doom and gloom, he couldn’t help but feel his anger melt away.

Virgil had obviously been at his side the entire night, probably stewing in his emotions and not letting any of the other sides stay awake with him. Roman cringed internally when he remembered how he had treated Logan upon waking. He had been half out of his mind, fully associating the kind, helpful Logan with the crazy, knife wielding one. If Patton hadn’t been there, Roman wasn’t sure whether he would have ever been convinced that his nightmare was over.

Roman sighed through his nose and decided that he let Virgil sit in his anxiety long enough. He made eye contact with him, made a fist with his thumb and pinky pointing out, and brought it to his ear. Virgil stopped his gnawing and stared for a moment before nearly sprinting away and coming back with what Roman had wanted: his phone.

Roman took it gratefully. He was still too tired to conjure anything, and Virgil’s obvious enthusiasm to help was making it harder for him to be mad. Roman opened his ‘Notes’ app, tapped out a message, and showed it to Virgil.

 **You suck at pranks** it read.

The message had the intended effect. Virgil’s eyes widened in momentary bewilderment before settling back into a mixture of relief and possibly guilt. Roman attributed that to the fact that he was using his phone to talk. Cowardly, he knew. But at the moment, Roman didn’t want to risk anything. If he opened his mouth and somehow learned he was still in a nightmare, he didn’t think he would recover.

Virgil nodded, “Yeah, I’m the freaking _worst_ at pranks.”

 **Leave them to Thomas** Roman typed.

Virgil snorted, but then his expression suddenly turned solemn. “Do you remember everything?” he asked.

Roman hesitated before nodding. He remembered. The blackness, the pain, the vines, the spiders, the pain, the cold expressions, the pain, the pain, the pain.

Virgil opened his mouth to ask another question, but there was a cluttering from the top of the staircase as Logan came down.

“Salutations Roman, how did you sleep?”

Roman raised an eyebrow at him and Logan’s face flamed.

“After everything happened,” he clarified.

Roman sent him a thumbs up. Logan’s posture relaxed a bit and he came over to the couch. Unintentionally, Roman felt himself stiffen. He cursed in his head when he saw Logan’s hurt expression and tapped out a message on his phone. He held it up to Logan and, if Logan found the action strange, he made no comment.

 **Sorry, that’s not intentional** he wrote and both Logan and Virgil looked at each other and then at Roman, waiting for him to continue.

How could he express to Logan that he was reacting to the product of a nightmare? _Sorry Lo, no need to worry. You were just a crazy, slice happy maniac in my head and oh-Virgil made my blood explode into spiders!_

 **You were in my nightmare** he settled on typing.

Logan’s eyes widened in understanding. He gestured towards Virgil in question and Roman nodded.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Logan asked and Roman shuddered.

He knew that Virgil often went to Patton and Logan often went to Virgil after a bad nightmare, so he knew that talking about your nightmares was supposed to be helpful. But the memory was too fresh, too _raw_ at the moment. Was that too cowardly of him to think?

“Now, there’s no rush if you don’t want to, kiddo.”

Roman jumped. Patton had somehow quietly entered the room and set a sandwich in front of him, all without him noticing. Suddenly, he had a flash of a bleary memory where Patton had lifted him up, carried him as if he were lighter than air, and set him gently on the couch. Quietly, Roman wondered whether Patton was actively radiating the feelings of _safety_ and _security_ , or whether he did that unconsciously. He steeled himself.

“Later,” Roman croaked out, tensing for any sign of black goo and nearly collapsing back into the couch when none appeared.

Despite how harsh his voice still sounded, the other three perked up as if he had just sung a three-part harmony by himself.

“Later is perfect,” Patton said and scooted the sandwich towards him. Roman examined it: roast beef and pepper jack on rye with a little ketchup. The ketchup was dripping red and goopy down the sides and the roast beef was thick and dark with rough bumps that looked like-

Roman pushed the sandwich away, now fully convinced that not throwing up was one of his new skills. Patton frowned at that.

“Now, Roman, you should eat something. How else can you stay your strong, princely self?” he asked and Roman wanted to say that if anyone was on a diet for muscle building, it was probably Patton. Roman shook the remnants of the nightmare away and picked at the ~~tongue~~ sandwich with little enthusiasm. He noticed that Virgil’s eyes were laser focused on the sandwich and he was shifting his weight from one leg to the other, the way they did when he wanted to say something, but needed prompting.

“You know, I know a few knights I could call if you want help guarding my sandwich,” Roman said and felt a burst of pride when he was able to get out a full sentence, followed by a surge of annoyance when he realized that he’d set the bar rather low for himself.

Virgil stopped his bouncing and looked at Patton. The two exchanged what seemed to be a silent conversation.

“So I-uh,” Virgil started, “I, you know I, I mean you don’t know but I’m trying to tell you that I didn’t know that I, I-ugh,” Virgil huffed and Roman had to hold back a laugh at Virgil’s endearing tendency to ramble when he was nervous. It was actually pretty cute, but Roman would never tell him that.

“I’m sorry Pri- Roman. I’m really, really sorry,” he finally managed to say.

Roman looked up at him with a slight frown. He knew Virgil wasn’t talking about the rambling and he knew the apology was genuine. Roman thumbed at the hem of the blanket. What Virgil did wasn’t ok, but he knew he held no ill intentions. Of course, Roman couldn’t just say that directly, he did love a bit of dramatic build up. So after nodding for a bit and rubbing his fingers together in seemingly deep thought, Roman looked up at Virgil and squinted.

“Virgil?” he said, in a tone so serious that he even surprised himself. Virgil made a noise that was a cross between a squeak and a whimper and Roman decided that he tortured him for long enough. Roman’s face broke into a soft smile.

“I forgive you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh, so what do you guys think?? Did Roman forgive Virgil too quickly? Everything seems to be ok, but then why are there still two chapters left??
> 
> Haha, hope you read on to find out and hope you enjoyed this chapter! I swear that some of you guys in the comments are trying (and succeeding) to make me cry happy tears :') . I can't say it enough: thank you for all your support!!


	10. Misfolded Items

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All is forgiven, but is all well?
> 
> Notes- mentions of spiders

It had been a month since the ‘incident’ as they decided to call it. They all talked to Thomas and, although he seemed deeply troubled after hearing what happened to Roman, admitted that he hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. Virgil supposed that made sense. If Thomas had a nightmare every time Virgil, Logan, or Patton did, he would never sleep.

It took a week for Roman to stop hesitating before speaking and another week before he could sleep in his own room again. He still used his phone to talk on some days, but confirmed that he hadn’t had any nightmares since. It didn’t do much to curb Virgil’s guilt, but it was definitely something.

Three days ago, Roman had built up the courage, of which Virgil admired with renewed appreciation, to show the others his nightmare. Patton repeated that there was no need, but Roman had insisted, claiming that it might help him move forward. He had led them into the imagination where he showed them his best replication of the events as they had unfolded. 

Virgil was mortified.

Sure, he had some pretty bad nightmares, but they only very rarely got _that_ bad. The small, logical part of him noted that he must have lost control of Roman’s dream before the human tongue made an appearance. The larger, more typical part of him was too horrified to even speak.

Patton had a proper freak out at the part with the spiders (I’m terribly afraid of spiders, I am oh so terribly afraid of them), but insisted that they kept going, and when the world’s worst show-and-tell was finally over, it was surprisingly Logan who broke down first. Logan, who almost never cried (at least in front of them), had slid to his knees and was blubbering out apology after illogical apology.

Upon seeing the more logical side burst into tears, both Patton and Roman followed suite and Roman swore up and down that Logan had absolutely nothing to apologize for. Of course he didn’t, Vigil thought in the moment, it wasn’t his fault.

It was Virgil’s.

But Roman’s insistence didn’t seem to work as well as he may have thought because Virgil was sitting in Logan’s room, for the third time since they were shown the nightmare, listening to Logan mutter insecurities.

“What if that’s what he sees me as?” Logan asked. He was wringing his hands nonstop and his glasses were falling down his nose. Virgil pushed them back up gently.

“Lo, I’m never sure about anything. Like, ever. But if there’s one thing I know, it’s that Roman doesn’t see you as some psychotic Jack-the-Ripper knock off.”

“But, but, what if the knife is a metaphor! A metaphor for me always cutting down his ideas! Because I do that a lot. I mean, granted some of them are stupid, they can get _so_ stupid Virgil and, oh goodness I’m doing it again, I-”

Wowee. Was this what Virgil sounded like when he rambled? Logan’s glasses were slipping down again and Virgil took them off and placed them on his nightstand.

“Logan, there isn’t always a logical correlation from nightmares to reality,” Virgil started. Logan began to interject, but Virgil held a finger up, “Ah-ah, let me finish. Sure there was definitely some disturbing imagery,” the connection of spiders to himself wasn’t lost on him and Virgil tried not to think about _those_ particular implications, “but you got to remember that it was a nightmare. Heck, one of the priorities of his kingdom was jellybean flavors! Does that sound grounded in reality at all to you?”

Logan shook his head and swallowed. Virgil smiled back, satisfied.

“It’s because it isn’t. Could you cut back-” Virgil winced at his word choice and rephrased, “Could you _dial_ back the criticism sometimes? Sure. But it’s never been so harsh as to conjure up a nightmare.”

 _Because I’m the one who conjures nightmares_.

Logan sighed and picked up his glasses. “You really think so?” he asked.

Virgil tried to channel his inner Patton, “Yeah. Yeah, I do. Now can we _please_ grab breakfast I am so hungry.” Virgil said. It wasn’t completely true, but Virgil knew that Logan had skipped dinner the other day and it was nearly 10 in the morning. Logan seemed to brighten at the suggestion and the two walked down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Logan began to fix coffee for both of them and put on hot water for Patton in case he wanted tea when he came down. Virgil shuffled around the kitchen and grabbed a granola bar. He leaned back as he listened to the bubbling kettle and Logan’s soft hums. The sunlight was passing through the blinds and tinged everything with a faint golden glow. Virgil inched his way towards the sun beams and put his head down on the table so he could enjoy the warmth on his head (Patton often likened him to a cat when he did this. Virgil didn’t comment).

Virgil’s peaceful basking was interrupted when Roman bustled into the kitchen. Virgil tilted his head up and cracked an eye open. By the looks of it, Roman had been up for a while and judging by the loud greeting, it was one of his better days.

“Good morning sleepyheads!” Roman boomed and rustled Virgil’s head good-naturedly. Virgil caught Logan’s eye. Neither of them mentioned that they had been up since 8, working through Logan’s most recent nightmare.

“Morning, Roman. Would you like some coffee or tea?” he asked. Roman mainly drank smoothies in the morning, but would sometimes partake in the other side’s inclination towards hot drinks.

Roman shook his head. “No,” he said and Logan deflated a bit. Roman rushed to clarify, “I already had something to drink, and I really need to get started on cleaning the living room.”

Logan perked up at that. In the days after Roman’s nightmare, he had taken to intermittently sleeping in the living room with Patton checking up on him almost constantly. After he had shown them the nightmare, they all had huddled and hugged in the living room and addressed the creepy spider whispering. While everyone was glad that they had convinced Roman that he absolutely wasn’t _useless_ and he was very much _wanted_ , the room had become rather… messy and no one had bothered to clean it up in case Roman wanted to use the couch again. Roman offering to clean it seemed like a good sign.

Virgil stretched and leaned his face on his hand, “Do you need some help?” he asked. It was kind of his fault, after all, that the room needed to get so messy in the first place. Roman nodded vigorously and Virgil popped the rest of his granola bar into his mouth and followed him out.

Virgil grabbed a plastic bag and he and Roman began to pick up the debris that was a result of Roman’s late night snacking. Virgil held out a wrapper with a lollipop that had a cotton candy center. It glowed a golden blue and was making a strange, high-pitched sound.

Man, Roman’s late night munchie conjuring got real weird. Virgil chucked it into the bag and started folding the dozens of blankets that were strewn around, noting that the original Moana blanket had gone missing. He squinted his eyes and stared, trying to ascertain whether the corners matched perfectly because he hated misfolded items. He was so focused that he only noticed Roman trying to get him attention on the prince’s third “ _AHEM.”_

Virgil blinked back into his surroundings and raised an eyebrow at Roman.

“Finally,” Roman groaned dramatically, “I was beginning to think that you had turned into a piece of furniture.”

Virgil sighed, tearing his gaze away from the blankets, “Sorry. What’s up, did you want the blankets somewhere else?”

Roman shook his head and pushed the blankets aside. Virgil nearly hissed at him, the corners were all messed up again! Virgil glared at Roman’s back, and grabbed the blanket he was working on.

“I, uh, actually,” Roman started,

“We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One last cliffhanger for this story!
> 
> If I said it once, I'll say it, like, a billion more times: THANK YOU for your support! Seeing your comments and kudos never fails to make my day :) Hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	11. Basil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil and Roman talk-
> 
> Notes: mentions of panic attacks and nightmares

“We need to talk.”

Oh boy, if there was anything that could get Virgil’s mind to start spiraling, it was the classic ‘we need to talk’.

_This is it. He’s finally going to yell at me for what happened._

_He’s going to finally admit that he hates me and they’re going to throw me out._

Roman shuffled and Virgil strained to hear him over his own thoughts.

“I’ve been thinking about what happened that night,” he started.

_It’s happening._

_I deserve it this._

_No but I don’t want it to happen- that doesn’t matter!-Yes it does! No, no, nonnonono_

“And I guess I never knew how bad nightmares and,” he shivered, “panic attacks could be.”

A small, horrible part of Virgil thought _It was just one nightmare! I always have them! And panic attacks! Well, not usually ones as bad as the one you had. And my nightmares have never caused me physical pain but-but still!_

“And I realized that I never reached out to you about them.”

Virgil blinked. _Wait. What?_

Roman ran a hand through his hair, scuffing it up on the sides. “You have them often right? I know you go to Patton or Logan when you need help, and I’m glad you trust them enough to talk them! I just-” he let out a sigh, “I want you to know that I’m here for you too. If you ever need me. I’m sorry I never told you before.”

Virgil’s brain froze.

“No.”

Roman jerked back. “No? No like you don’t accept or-?”

Virgil rose, dropping his blanket in a heap. “No, you’re not allowed to be sorry.”

Roman blinked at him, “I-uh. I’m sorry, what?”

Virgil let out a frustrated groan, “Stop that! Don’t say sorry!”

“I’m sor-I mean- what is happening?!” Roman asked, rising as well and throwing up his hands.

Virgil began pacing.

“You’re sorry? _You’re_ sorry? Are you fucking kidding me?” Virgil spun on his heels and jabbed a finger towards Roman who let out a small _eep_.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Virgil asked and crossed his hands in front of his chest.

“You know, I’m not really sure anymore.” Roman said, but Virgil ignored him and continued pacing.

_Is this some kind of sick joke?_

“Virgil?”

_Are they just being nice to me now so that it hurts less when they kick me out?_

“Virge?”

_That’s it isn’t it? They let me stew for a month and now everything’s going to-_

“VIRGIL.”

Roman had grabbed Virgil’s shoulders and forced him to stop the pacing. He led him gently to the couch and coached him through a few breathing exercises. The same breathing exercises, Virgil thought with a pang, that Roman went through a month ago. When Virgil could verify that he indeed had lungs again, he looked up at Roman who held his gaze with a fiery intensity.

“What’s up, Virgil?” he asked.

The question itself was casual, but his tone was so gentle that it almost made Virgil tear up. Virgil took in another breath.

“You should hate me,” he finally said. Roman took his hands.

“And why, pray tell, should I do that?”

Virgil gestured vaguely in his direction. “The nightmare,” he croaked out lamely and Roman shook his head and frowned.

“Virgil, I already forgave you for that, it-”

“You shouldn’t have!” Virgil cut him off with a shout and let his posture wilt, “you shouldn’t have,” he repeated softly, “I don’t deserve it.”

Roman huffed. “Well too bad, I already forgave you and there’s no takesies backsies,” he finished with a pout. Usually, Roman’s fake petulance would be enough to drag Virgil out of his ‘doom and gloom’ mood, but he just sagged further into the couch. Roman let out a soft sigh.

“I have the feeling that no matter what I say, you’ll still feel guilty,” Roman said quietly. Virgil nodded. So Roman had finally figured it out and decided to give up on him. Took him long enough.

“UNLESS!” Roman suddenly thundered, so loudly that Virgil felt his ears go back (damn, maybe he was cat), “Patton! Logan!” he called and jumped to his feet. The two bustled out of the kitchen. Logan was chewing on a biscuit and Patton had a cup of tea in his hands.

“Well, are you two having a cleaning party without us?” Patton asked, hands on his hips, “You can’t clean furniture happily unless you’re being _chair-ished_ by your favorite dad!”

Logan groaned and swallowed the rest of his biscuit. “What’s going on, Roman?”

“You’re here,” Roman began, hunched over for dramatic effect, and then wildly swung his arm towards Virgil, “to witness Virgil’s penance!”

“His what now?” Virgil asked, suddenly feeling very small under Roman’s intense gaze. Roman turned towards him.

“Correct me if I’m wrong. You’re feeling guilty.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Because you feel like you don’t deserve forgiveness?”

“Yes, Roman, I just said that.”

Patton had moved over a few blankets and sat next to Virgil. The steam rising from his tea warmed Virgil’s arm. Logan tilted his head curiously and Virgil, well Virgil was worried about the mischievous twinkle that was gleaming in the Prince’s eyes.

“In that case, you shall earn your forgiveness, do you agree?”

Normally, Virgil’s mind would run through the 1001 implications of that statement, but he just shrugged in agreement. Whatever Roman was thinking, Virgil would rather do that than live with the alternative.

“Then from this day forward for one month,” Roman said in a deep voice and Virgil hunched his shoulders, bracing himself.

“You shall…”

_Dammit, just say it already!_

“Answer any question I pose to you!”

Virgil blinked. “What?”

“And none of your sassy responses either mister sassafras,” Roman finished and Patton squealed at the nickname.

“Answer… questions?” _What did that even mean?_ “What kind of questions?”

Roman put a finger to his lips, deep in thought, and then brightened.

“Questions like what do you smell when you hear the number nine?”

Logan groaned loudly. “Goodness, not this again. This is completely nonsensical, there isn’t a way to-”

“Peppermint bark!” Patton piped up. Roman nodded sagely.

“A respectable choice.”

Virgil snorted. Logan was spluttering and shook his head several times. Roman was looking at Virgil now with a stare that would have been deadly serious if it weren’t undercut by a small smile.

“I guess I’m bound by law to answer, huh?” Virgil asked and both Roman and Patton nodded. Virgil thought for moment.

“Basil.”

Immediately, Roman jumped back.

“Basil?! Ridiculous! Herbs are strictly reserved for even numbers!”

More spluttering was coming from the corner. Poor Logan. Virgil threw his hands up.

“Wha- how do you have a rule system for a question you _just_ made up?!”

“I don’t know!” there was a crinkle by Roman’s eyes, but his tone was steady as he puffed his chest out and continued, “But now that I have, I shall defend my decision and I shall make it my life’s mission to have you agree with me.”

Virgil raised an exasperated eyebrow at Roman. Logan was pinching the bridge of his nose and Patton was encouraging him to take small sips of tea, supposedly to calm down. They were all here. Together. None of them had left him after his mistake and as he looked at Roman, that damn crinkle near his eye and his shit-eating grin, he realized how hard Roman was trying to make Virgil feel better.

Maybe he didn’t deserve Roman’s forgiveness. Maybe he never would, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to earn it. Virgil chuckled and looked up at Roman.

“In your dreams, Princey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand it's finished T-T. This was my first fanfiction and I have to say that I couldn't imagine a more welcoming and wonderful audience. If you've made it to the end of this fic, thank you so much for reading. You all have inspired me so much to keep writing and I can't thank you enough.
> 
> On that sad note, some exciting news! Did you enjoy this fic, but think it was lacking one snek boi (aka Where is Deceit) ? Are you looking for a new fic to read? If so, check out my story: The Truth Hurts ! It's not a sequel, but hope you like it all the same!
> 
> Alright, shameless plug aside, thank you again for reading. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, until next time!!


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